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City as Landscape
In twenty essays, this book covers aspects of planning, architecture, urban design, landscape architecture, park and garden design. Their approach, described as post -postmodern, is a challenge to the 'anything goes' eclecticism of the merely postmodern.
260 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 1995
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About the author
Tom Turner
15 books9 followersTom Turner is an English landscape architect and garden historian. He was educated at the Universities of St Andrews and Edinburgh and studied landscape architecture under Frank Clarke.Tom edits the Gardenvisit.com website http://www.gardenvisit.com/.
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February 8, 2021
I only read two chapters in this book, the primary one being about the use of metaphor. Although it was only a brief look at metaphor in design and planning, it was well explained, outlined and illustrated. Turner investigates metaphor through its use in furniture, rivers, forests, gardens, and so on.
Whilst his notion that tables really do have ‘feminine’ legs is dubious, I understand what Turner was trying to demonstrate. Shapely legs, curvy and resting on tippy-toes as it were, are not particularly ‘masculine’, however, such a ‘metaphor’ is very close to a ‘stereotype’ rather than an ‘archetype’ and it illustrates the potential risk of labelling which metaphor can tend to do. Whether in fact, 100 years ago a craftsman said, ‘let this table have womanly legs’ or whether it’s a thoroughly modern interpretation of slim ankles and high heels, I don’t know, but it raises an interesting dilemma. [I think it was in Punter’s book on metaphor that he notes, in regards to psychoanalysis, that sometimes inferences say more about the perceiver than they do about the creator. That Freud believed all his female patients were dreaming of phallic symbols and all his male ones were in love with their mother, may mean that these are recurring themes of our subconscious, or…]
Over and over he shows the potent historical legacy of inherited metaphors, as well as the recurring need to invent and utilise new ones. Turner sees metaphor as a creative and ordering tool, but also cautions that a ‘radial city’ whilst being a strong and clear metaphor, is not the city itself; the street patterns are only one pattern that makes up the nature of the place. It’s a strong reminder. Le Corbusier’s ‘Radiant City’ took on a life of its own, one which potentially lost touch with its origin story. [In T.S. Eliot’s review of poetry and criticism, he notes that where a poet starts through inspiration is rarely when he ends, and as such, the meaning that the reader derives is often different from what the poet intended. Ideas, as such, are slippery things.]
Turner often quotes poetry and fables to demonstrate the integration between old ideas and new metaphors, and the ways in which their use can improve otherwise dull design. As he suggests, resorting to fairy-tale forests or a Pilgrim’s Progress when designing a park means that there is the potential for moving up and down, through and over, in and out, surprise, mystery, a sense of danger and the emergence of heroes. It makes you look at your local park and its flat expanse of green grass a little differently. [Although of course, the idea of crossing a fairy-tale park at night is another matter; it quickly conjures up wicked witches, wolves and all other manner of predatory beasties, which brings you full circle back to the need for well lit open areas!]
Regardless, this was a short but interesting chapter on metaphor with several strong examples, which Turner succinctly ‘unpacks’ for us with just enough information and plenty of inspiration to keep you thinking.
(I also read the chapter on the Parc de la Villette which I won’t summarise here, but it was not as strong as the one on metaphor. His description of the garden was framed in a series of ‘readings,’ i.e. in terms of metaphysics, art, real estate, and so on. It was an interesting take, but the approach led to a certain amount of repetition. Very specific, and insightful none the less.)
Whilst his notion that tables really do have ‘feminine’ legs is dubious, I understand what Turner was trying to demonstrate. Shapely legs, curvy and resting on tippy-toes as it were, are not particularly ‘masculine’, however, such a ‘metaphor’ is very close to a ‘stereotype’ rather than an ‘archetype’ and it illustrates the potential risk of labelling which metaphor can tend to do. Whether in fact, 100 years ago a craftsman said, ‘let this table have womanly legs’ or whether it’s a thoroughly modern interpretation of slim ankles and high heels, I don’t know, but it raises an interesting dilemma. [I think it was in Punter’s book on metaphor that he notes, in regards to psychoanalysis, that sometimes inferences say more about the perceiver than they do about the creator. That Freud believed all his female patients were dreaming of phallic symbols and all his male ones were in love with their mother, may mean that these are recurring themes of our subconscious, or…]
Over and over he shows the potent historical legacy of inherited metaphors, as well as the recurring need to invent and utilise new ones. Turner sees metaphor as a creative and ordering tool, but also cautions that a ‘radial city’ whilst being a strong and clear metaphor, is not the city itself; the street patterns are only one pattern that makes up the nature of the place. It’s a strong reminder. Le Corbusier’s ‘Radiant City’ took on a life of its own, one which potentially lost touch with its origin story. [In T.S. Eliot’s review of poetry and criticism, he notes that where a poet starts through inspiration is rarely when he ends, and as such, the meaning that the reader derives is often different from what the poet intended. Ideas, as such, are slippery things.]
Turner often quotes poetry and fables to demonstrate the integration between old ideas and new metaphors, and the ways in which their use can improve otherwise dull design. As he suggests, resorting to fairy-tale forests or a Pilgrim’s Progress when designing a park means that there is the potential for moving up and down, through and over, in and out, surprise, mystery, a sense of danger and the emergence of heroes. It makes you look at your local park and its flat expanse of green grass a little differently. [Although of course, the idea of crossing a fairy-tale park at night is another matter; it quickly conjures up wicked witches, wolves and all other manner of predatory beasties, which brings you full circle back to the need for well lit open areas!]
Regardless, this was a short but interesting chapter on metaphor with several strong examples, which Turner succinctly ‘unpacks’ for us with just enough information and plenty of inspiration to keep you thinking.
(I also read the chapter on the Parc de la Villette which I won’t summarise here, but it was not as strong as the one on metaphor. His description of the garden was framed in a series of ‘readings,’ i.e. in terms of metaphysics, art, real estate, and so on. It was an interesting take, but the approach led to a certain amount of repetition. Very specific, and insightful none the less.)
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